As much as of an enjoyment it was just feeling the warm water splashing around, Harol came to the conclusion that he really had to wash himself before the water cooled down. Even if there was lots of water and it was still very warm, the rule better safe than sorry governed Harol's actions. He reached for all the different kinds of washing equipment, and began washing himself up.

It did not take awfully long, and Harol was actually a little disappointed on how fast he was done, so he simply splashed around in the water for a moment longer. Soon enough that lost it's charm too, and Harol rose up from the tub, and walked to the towel that had been left on the bench, next to which he had left his clothes. Drying his back was quite a chore for him, but at last he was dry enough to don his clothes again. Harol walked back into the hallway, past the servant who had apparently stood there for the whole time, and left towards his room as he heard the servant go into the bathroom he had just left, most likely to clean up after him.

However, Harol soon heard a shriek and a splash from the bathroom and quickly rushed back. It looked like she had slipped and ended up diving into the tub. Harol rolled back his sleeves and reached for the servants hands to help her out of the water. She gripped Harol's wrists firmly as did Harol take hold of hers, and pulled her up from the water and onto the floor. Her clothing was soaked and clinged onto her form, which Harol did his best to ignore. "Are you alright? Did you hit your head?" Harol asked genuinely concerned. "I am fine sir... Thank you..." she replied and stood up, now her clothes being even more visibly clingy. She tried her best to pull them off her body into a more civil look, but kept failing the attempts. "I'll find someone to take care of this mess I caused..." she continued and rushed out of the room, leaving Harol just standing there.

Well, now that that was over and done with, Harol headed back towards his room, and as he was passing the room believed had been reserved for Freya, decided to knock on the door to see if she was there. No answer. His curiosity not satisfied, he pressed down on the handle, and to his surprise the door opened. Harol didn't know if he would be welcome to intrude, but he came to the conclusion that simply taking a look in would not kill him. Inside, he saw Freya sleeping on top of her bed with her hair open instead of the braid, even though he had rarely seen her hair even like that, given the hood and all. Now, even if he was not the street-wisest person, Harol knew not to sneak up on a sleeping person who had been hunted for all their life long, and simply called her from the door: "Hey, Freya... You could try sleeping under the covers. And I believe you would be comfier without all that leather padding too. Good night!" If she were not to respond, he'd just head to sleep on his own. Otherwise they might still have some time to discuss something. Maybe Harol could tell her about the funny incident just moments ago?